


the not so sexy death

by your_sweet_boy_mike



Category: Batman - All Media Types
Genre: Bathing/Washing, Character Death, Denial, Hurt No Comfort, M/M, Necrophilia
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-13
Updated: 2020-09-13
Packaged: 2021-03-06 22:34:39
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,204
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26446423
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/your_sweet_boy_mike/pseuds/your_sweet_boy_mike
Summary: Slade dies and Dick refuses to acknowledge it
Relationships: Dick Grayson/Slade Wilson
Comments: 18
Kudos: 57





	the not so sexy death

**Author's Note:**

> uhhh, yes. this is what i wrote. 
> 
> thanks so much to @awkwardlyhides for again helping me with this! she is an angel who i adore.
> 
> and thanks to @WithTheKeyIsKing who always answers my "hypothetical" questions XD

Dick was so tired when he finally got Slade up on the bed in his safe house. It had been a long couple of days getting an unconscious Slade from where he got hurt to the safe house, as he hadn’t woken up a single time and was just dead weight.

Dick collapsed beside Slade on the bed, before kicking off his pants and boots and wriggled out of his sweater. _He didn’t take off Slade’s clothes, afraid to see what was underneath._ Then he cuddled close to Slade and put a hand on his chest- on his stomach and went to sleep.

-

When he woke the next morning, he was nuzzled close to Slade, his head on Slade’s chest. _He didn’t listen for anything because there was nothing to listen to_. He got up to go to the bathroom and got a washcloth to wash Slade’s face. He still left Slade’s clothes on, opting for giving him a bath later.

When he’d fed himself, he went back to Slade and hauled him to the bathroom. Took off his clothes and got him in the bath. Dick put in some scented salts and soothing bath… stuff he got from Slade once. He stared at the water filling for a while but didn’t notice it had overflowed until he felt his feet getting wet. He cursed and rushed to shut the water off.

He got in the tub himself, cringing when more water overflowed, but didn’t do anything about it. He reached for the washcloth- that he forgot to get, and quickly got out of the tub to get it. When he got back to the tub, Slade had slid down and was almost submerged. Dick rushed to get him up again, and made sure he stayed upright this time, so he wouldn’t swallow any water in his state. _Not that he could, or that it would even matter_.

As Dick washed Slade’s body, starting from his feet, and going up, he made idle talk to Slade, talking about whatever fell into his mind, _ignoring what was right in front of him_. He thought it was weird that Slade hadn’t woken up yet, and told him so, and continued talking about how Slade’s healing factor usually worked a lot faster than this and-  
Dick had to clean Slade’s chest now. Slade’s chest. The chest of Slade. It was- yes. The big hole was closed up now, but the line of where Dick sewed Slade up was definitely less pink and looked more… healed. Yes. It sure did. Dick smiled. Wet the cloth and started washing Slade again, careful around the wound in case Slade was in some sort of coma and could still feel pain.

Dick got them both out of the bath, and into the bedroom again. Decided it would be too hard to dry Slade and let him air dry on the bed. He was winded again and went to get a glass of water. As he looked out the window over his sink in the kitchen, he thought about what he should do next. He needed to take care of Slade, protect him. W _hich meant he couldn’t call Bruce, or anyone else, because they would **see**_.

-

Some days went by, and Slade showed no sign of waking up. His wound was looking a lot better though! It was healing nicely, it had no color at all anymore, and looked – _so pale_ – pretty good if he could say so himself! He spent a lot of time with Slade, tending to and caring for him. Protecting him. He had to make sure he stayed.

-

It was about a week after they got home that Dick got a brilliant idea while sitting at the couch. He could wake Slade up with what Slade liked best. Sex! It was a really good idea, it had to be.

He ran from the living room to the bedroom where Slade was stationed. Kissed him quickly.

“I’m gonna help you Slade, I’m gonna wake you up!” he said, as he rolled down Slade’s sweatpants. His cock was big, and Dick moaned at the sight, deciding to make every noise and movement and sensation louder and bigger and better so that Slade would wake up faster.

He took Slade in his mouth, resting the cockhead on his tongue, waiting for a moment to look for a reaction from Slade. Nothing. Oh well.

He continued with his mission, desperate to meet his goal. He bobbed his head up and down on the cock, still waiting for a reaction. He moaned obscenely, slobbered on Slade’s cock, and pumped what his mouth didn’t cover with his hand.

He pressed his tongue on the underside of his cock, licking up to the head and sucking, before starting to take him in his throat. He bobbed his head up and down, going lower with each bob, and soon his nose was in Slade’s pubes. Dick moaned again, and took one of Slade’s hands in his, leading it up to his hair to encourage him to grip it.

Nothing. The hand fell back down.

Dick tried not to get hurt by it, Slade was trying to heal after all, he probably felt everything and was trying his best to wake up, there was just something in the way! There had to be a reason for Slade not waking up. _There was_. The serum worked, he knew it did, the wound was proof to that. _No_. There just had to be something else.

Whatever. He could at least finish his task. Dick kept up the blowjob, did every little trick he knew Slade liked, did the swirl of his tongue that could get even Slade to lose his composure for a moment.

Dick took a moment to breathe properly and looked down at Slade’s cock.

Slade’s flaccid cock.

What?

Even if Slade was hurt and in some sort of coma, he should be able to get hard. Right? He should, that- that was just common sense. He should be hard! Something was wrong, and Dick felt tears in his eyes the more he thought about it.

No. Dick threw himself off the bed, went to the kitchen instead. Nothing was wrong. Slade was just using all his energy to heal. Everything was fine. He just needed to wait.  
Dick spent the night on the couch.

-

A few days later, Dick heard a knock on his door. He went to open it. Outside stood one of his neighbors.

“Hi Roger,” Dick said, smiling easily. Roger smiled back, but Dick could see he didn’t mean it.

“Hey. I don’t know if you’re aware, but there’s a horrible smell coming from this floor and it’s strongest by your apartment,” Roger informed him, and Dick was very confused. A smell?

Dick took a moment to sniff but didn’t smell anything out of the ordinary.

“Sorry Roger, I have no idea what you’re talking about. I don’t smell anything-“

“Well, if you can just clean your apartment that’d be great, maybe that’s the problem,” Roger interrupted, before quickly going down the hallway, stifling his choughs.

Dick shrugged, but closed and locked the door, and started cleaning.

He cleaned the whole apartment and gave Slade a sponge bath. He didn’t get Slade in the bathtub anymore. _Two of his nails fell out the last time they were there_.

Dick went to bed beside Slade that night, keeping the covers over them both, _and ignoring the bloody froth around his nose and mouth_. Dick was happy, Slade looked so different from that first night, it had to mean he was healing – _he was rotting_ – right?

It had been three weeks since the accident. Dick had run empty for food, and couldn’t go and get more, he needed to protect Slade. He mostly drank water. He also didn’t look at Slade anymore. it had been five days since he did. His skin fell off on his face when Dick washed there.

Dick sat at the bed, refusing to look at Slade, refusing to-  
Someone knocked on a window. Not in the bedroom. Maybe the living room? Dick got up. Didn’t close the bedroom door. Saw Jason on the fire escape. Dick opened the window to let him in. When he did though:

“Fuck, what the hell is that smell!?” Jason said, and actually took a step back. Dick looked at him quizzically.

“What smell?” he asked. Jason did a once over on Dick, taking in the dark bags under his eyes, the very much lessened muscular frame of his, the nonexistent color in his face.

“It smells like death in here,” he said carefully. Dick tilted his head. “And you look like you’re near death.”

Dick huffed. Walked away from the window. Jason carefully stepped in beside him. Coughed a little. looked around. Everything seemed in place. The kitchen was clean, the living room seemed all right. Jason looked to the bedroom, in the open door.

“Do you have someone over?” he asked, looking at the strange… big mass on Dick’s bed.

Dick nodded.

“Yeah, Slade is here,” he answered, and Jason paused. Dick never looked bad when Slade was over. And he would never tolerate this horrible smell.

“Has he been here long?” Jason looked at Dick again. He didn’t seem nervous. He just seemed a bit… off.

Dick wringed his hands as he smiled.

“About three weeks, yeah,” he replied, and Jason started walking to the bedroom. The smell got stronger and Jason felt his stomach drop when Slade got into his line of sight. Dick came  
up behind him.

“He got hurt on a mission,” he started explaining. “He has been in a coma ever since. He’s healing, it’s just taking some time.” Dick walked past Jason and sat on the bed beside Slade. Not once did he look at the body. Because it was a body. Slade Wilson’s dead and bloated body.

Dick stared straight ahead.

“The wound looks a lot better than it did that night, so it’s healing. It is. It’s just taking time.”

Jason tore his eyes away from Dick to look at Slade again. He had no clothes on as far as he could see, only a sheet wrapped over him. His eyepatch was there, but god, his face. Part of it had no skin at all, like it had melted off him, and Jason felt sick looking at him.

He had seen bodies before of course, but this… the way Slade looked, the way he just laid there while Dick talked about him like he was real? Like he was just sleeping? Fuck. What the hell was Jason supposed to do? He couldn’t handle this alone, not at all, this was fucked up, way more fucked up than he had ever imagined from Dick.

Fuck.

“Jason?” Dick was still staring straight ahead. Jason cleared his throat.

“Yeah Dickie?” Dick looked down on his hands. Completely still for a few seconds. Jason moved to place a hand on Dick’s shoulder.

“What were you going to say, Blue Bird?” Jason watched Dick carefully, mindful of where Slade- the body was as he moved even closer.

Dick only stared at his hands. Jason waited for a long moment. He would never admit it, but he was a little afraid of what would happen next.

Jason waited still, tense, looking back and forth between Dick and the body. When Dick finally spoke, Jason almost didn’t hear it.

“Help,” Dick whispered. It was so soft, so quiet, and if the AC had been on, Jason wouldn’t have heard it.

Jason immediately lifted Dick up and half dragged, half carried him to the kitchen and sat him down. He didn’t like calling Bruce, but he didn’t know who else he should call. Dick was starting to shake, and Jason stood behind him, holding him with one arm, and held the phone in the other, waiting for Bruce to answer.

“Jason,” Bruce stated, and it was clear he wasn’t in the mood to talk to Jason right now. Whatever, it wasn’t Jason who needed help.

“Dick is in trouble,” Jason started, and tried not to think about the way Bruce’s breath wouldn’t have hitched if he had been in trouble.

“I don’t know exactly what’s wrong, but Slade Wilson is in his bed, dead. Has been for some weeks judging by how he looks. Dick is… off. I didn’t know who else to call.”

Jason held onto Dick firmer when he started shaking more violently.

“Alright Jason, I’ll be right there.” Bruce hung up, and Dick fell from the kitchen stool. Jason almost fell with him, but he was quick to scoop him up on the floor, leaning against the wall, trying to console Dick, who was screaming and crying.

Jason couldn’t hear what he was screaming about, focused on keeping him there, close to him. Jason stared at the ceiling, completely still, silently begging for Bruce to come already.

Dick’s fighting and screaming slowly died down to nothing, and they still sat in silence, clinging to each other as Bruce came in the door.

“Bedroom,” Jason said, not looking at Bruce, trying his best to focus on Dick. Not the body.

**Author's Note:**

> :)


End file.
